Blurb:

A powerful Nigeria-set horror tale of possession, malevolent ghosts, family tensions, secrets and murder from the recipient of the Bram Stoker Award for Lifetime Achievement and ‘Queen of African Horror’. For readers of Octavia Butler, Ben Okri and Koji Suzuki.

Bata, a young girl tormented by nightmares, wakes up one night to find herself standing sentinel before her cousin’s door. Her cousin is to get married the next morning, but only if she can escape the murderous attack of a ghost-bride, who used to be engaged to her groom.

A supernatural possession helps Bata battle and vanquish the vengeful ghost bride, and following a botched exorcism, she is transported to Ibaja-La, the realm of dead brides. There, she receives secret powers to fight malevolent ghost-brides before being sent back to the human realm, where she must learn to harness her new abilities as she strives to protect those whom she loves.

By turns touching and terrifying, this is vivid supernatural horror story of family drama, long-held secrets, possession, death - and what lies beyond.

Review:

I’m starting to think ‘Horror’ just makes me sad. This is like the fourth or fifth horror book where I just felt sad. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good book. It is rich with folklore and Nigerian culture. It's got incredible imagery throughout. I enjoyed it so much. This was my first time picking up a title by Nuzo Onoh and it will not be the last. But, damn, I spent a lot of this book feeling so bad for Bata.

From the blurb you know Bata already has some issues: chronic nightmares, murderous ghost-brides, being voluntold to fight malevolent ghost-brides after a botched exorcism. None of this is the ideal way to spend time. Oh, also she’s 10-11 for all of this. Remember being 10-11? That’s a weird age to navigate even without ghosts and ghostly powers that end up isolating you from your family because now you speak in eight voices and your eyes are weird. And the village medicine-man keeps asking her father to make her his apprentice. 

The story is first-person narrated so you really get a sense for how out of her depth, young, and desperate for normalcy Bata is. With that though, you also get a greater sense for how incredibly magical the whole experience is. And terrifying, because let’s be honest, malevolent ghost-brides are not positive words. Her life with mother, sister, step-mother/second-mother, triplet brothers that are just one constantly eating entity called Ejima, and temperamental father, is simple. And despite the temperamental father side, it is also very close and she loves and is loved deeply by her family. In Ibaja-La, the scenes are pure magic. Then terror. Then magic again. 

Ok so, Ibaja-La is the realm she is taken to by Big Mamma Mmuọ-Ka-Mmuọ and meets the wholesome ghost-brides. I really loved this part. The realm of dead brides is this paradise where brides who died before they were married go, and they come from all over the world, all backgrounds, sexualities and gender. There is a moment where Bata sees two men there and wonders why and it’s explained they can be brides too, even if not legally (I think the book was set in 1977), and come to Ibaja-La just the same as any bride waiting to marry their groom. And like I said, I loved it. But Bata is there to learn about these pure-hearted ghost-brides, how to protect them and protect the human brides on earth. But also to do that Mmuọ-Ka-Mmuọ and her council have to give you eight faces and send you home. Good luck! 

This is really when I felt so bad for Bata and she was breaking my heart. She didn’t want this, she didn’t ask for this and it has really ruined the life and future she wanted for herself. I think all of that is why I love how the whole thing came together. And the epilogue just was the perfect bow tying together the whole story. 

It’s a little bit of a struggle to talk about this short book in enough words to explain why I loved the story, writing and journey it took me on, while also keeping some back to make sure I don’t spoil the whole thing. There are moments of love, there are glimpses of humour, there is constant struggle and strength throughout, there is hope and, as you’d expect from the Queen of African Horror, there is horror. I wholly encourage anyone with any interest in horror, ghost stories, Nigerian folklore, characters of immense strength or any combination of these things to pick up this little book. Like our MC Bata, it is small but it is enormously praise-worthy.